


Dec 22

by dizzy



Series: Crisscolfer Advent 2015 [22]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 14:36:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5501075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Darren playing guitar in the student lounge and Chris secretly listening in and trying (yet failing) not to be obvious."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dec 22

If you'd asked Chris a year ago how well he thinks he'll do in college, the answer would have been somewhere between a grimace and a wince. High school was awful, a series of unfinished essays and lame excuses and classes skipped or daydreamed through. He had no friends, he was bored by the subject matter, and his teachers clearly saw nothing in him worth nurturing. 

But college isn't high school. With the chance to pursue specific interests and set his own schedule, he actually flourishes. His roommate isn't a total dick. His professors react a little better to his random tangents, and encourage his writing even while trying to keep him on track. He gets more work done under the power of his own motivation than he ever did with his mother hounding him. 

Maybe this isn't the glamorous acting career he dreamed of, but it turns out there are other ways of getting out Clovis and college isn't the worst. The end of his first semester is approaching and Chris is eager to go home, because he does miss his sister and his dog and his mom's cooking - but also already sure he'll be even more eager to come back once Christmas is over.

* 

Chris has made friends. Not too many, but enough that he can go out once or twice a week and feel like his presence actually contribute something. He finds common interests that he never shared with his classmates in school, and his self-confidence blossoms with the realization that people actually seek him out. 

But he still likes sitting alone with his headphones in and his laptop open more than anything else. His dorm room is a good escape most of the time, but he his roommate has a girlfriend he sneaks in once or twice a week and Chris tries to be decent and give him that time alone. (His roommate promised to return the favor if Chris ever needs it, which is laughable to Chris at the moment but he appreciates the consideration nonetheless.)

When he gets back from class to see his roommate putting freshly washed sheets on his bed, Chris knows one of those nights is looming in front of him. He could probably call up some of those newfound friends to occupy his time, but he's had a long day and little sleep the night before thanks to a final paper he waited far too long to start on. 

He packs up his laptop and makes sure he has his wallet and his phone and his headphones and bids goodbye with a laugh, choosing to grab some food at the dining hall and then hunting out somewhere quiet to hole up until he gets the all clear text. Unfortunately for Chris, this is the last time his roommate will see his girlfriend before the Christmas break so Chris is pretty sure that all clear won't come until far later than he'd like. 

* 

His leisurely walk around the campus ends up right back in his own dorm, because the library is too crowded and his favorite coffee shop is having an open mic night and the air is too crisp to stay outside. He really just wants to curl up in bed and sleep for a year. His good roommate etiquette suddenly seems so much more bothersome than it has in the past. 

The lounge in his building is almost empty and there's a nice big cushy chair that's free, his favorite one. The lounge has a tv and a couple of outdated game system, complete with a bookshelf full of only the movies and games that no one cares about enough to swipe. No one is interested at the moment so it's just Chris and a girl with noise canceling headphones on and a boy on the couch with a guitar on his lap. 

Chris almost leaves when he realizes the boy is actually playing, but the music isn't nearly as offensive as the coffee shop offering and he's not really sure where else he'd go so he tries to cross the room as quietly as possible and claims his spot. 

He pulls out headphones and puts them in because it feels like the polite thing to do and it's become habit, often necessary for warding off unwanted conversation. At this point he usually turns on a playlist but the guy playing isn't actually all that bad so he starts to scroll reddit without bothering with music. 

* 

An hour later, he's staring blankly at his screen. The girl left already. The guy is playing Christmas carols, sometimes just strumming the tune and sometimes singing along softly. 

Chris could almost sleep to it, if he were the person who felt comfortable napping in a public dorm lounge. Which - he's not, not at all, so instead he tries to keep his drowsy eyes open and his attention on the website in front of him. Every time he loses focus even a little bit his gaze seems to wander... over. 

Over to the guy. He's just wearing sweats and a t-shirt, his hair curly and a little shaggy. He's cute, and Chris can admit that because he's at college now and he's gradually forcing himself to be the kind of person who isn't ashamed of finding another guy hot. It helps that his friends are an open-minded, accepting group who don't at all mind nudging him when a hottie walks past. It also helps that some of his new friends are actually hotties themselves and don't mind when Chris expresses his aesthetic appreciation for them. 

It feels almost surreal, straight men that don't punch him for even looking at them for two seconds too long. It's such a world away from what he was used to before, and his memories of high school locker room bruises attest to it. 

But he doesn't know _this_ guy and he doesn't mean to stare, he's just so tired and the guy is so good. His earbuds fall out and he doesn't even bother sticking them back in, just winds the cord through his fingers and listens. 

The third time he's caught staring, he wants to die on the spot when the guy says, "I'm Darren, by the way." 

"Chris," Chris responds automatically. Then because he feels obligated to add something he says, "Um, you're good at that." 

"Yeah?" Darren grins. "My roomie didn't quite think so. He kicked me out so he could sleep. But I need to practice - my mom called me up today and was like, oh, by the way, you're playing for my entire book club the night you fly back in. Like I had a set list prepared for that - but, you know, moms." 

"Right." Chris has no idea why this cute boy is talking to him, but he feels like it's an opportunity he shouldn't pass up. "Well, you don't sound like you need any more practice." 

"Trying to get rid of me?" Darren laughs. 

And this is why Chris hasn't had a date yet. "No, no, that's not - no!" He says, probably a little too hastily. "I just meant, you're really good. I'm, uh. My roommate kicked me out too. He's got... company."

Darren snorts. "Oh yeah. Been there, too." 

"But I really didn't mean... um. You can keep going. I don't mind. Sorry if it sounded like..." He's not even sure how to finish that sentence. 

"No problem, man." Darren grins at him, seeming unbothered. "What about this one? I lived in Hawaii for a little while as a kid, so it's one of my favorite ones." 

He starts to play Mele Kalikimaka, singing along in that same voice that's loud enough to carry the few feet between them but not so loud as to bother people outside of the room. 

Two songs later, Chris's laptop battery bar goes red. He barely hesitates before closing it and sliding it back into his back. Darren watches him carefully, still playing, and smiles like he's happy when Chris just puts his bag back down and curls himself back into the chair. He tucks his knees up under him and rests his head on the back of the chair and lets the music somehow soothe away the stress of all his finals and packing and going home. He can't really explain the effect, but it's just - lovely. 

"You can tell me to shut the fuck up whenever you want," Darren says, pausing after Winter Wonderland while his fingers are already playing Let It Snow. His voice is a little scratchy now and Chris wonders if he'd still be practicing if Chris weren't there listening. 

"I like listening to you," Chris says, softer than he means. 

Darren smiles again, fingers going still. "I like you listening to me." 

And it dawns on Chris that maybe this is a moment. That maybe this cute boy isn't just tolerating his presence, but enjoying it. That maybe someone he thinks is attractive is looking at him and finding him attractive, too. It's terrifying and intoxicating at the same time. 

His phone buzzes with a text alert. He picks it up, heart racing a little. "Oh. My roommate is done," he says, because he'd forgotten for a moment exactly how he got into this position. 

"Oh, you're leaving?" Darren is definitely disappointed. 

"Yeah..." It's on the tip of his tongue to ask Darren for his number, or if he wants to get together again. "I have one more final tomorrow. So I guess I'll just. Go." 

"Aw, that blows," Darren says, sympathetic. "I'm done, but my flight heads out about ten am." 

So even if Chris could find the balls to ask Darren out, it wouldn't matter. A lump of something unpleasant settles in the pit of his stomach. It wouldn't have worked anyway. There's no way someone this cute would have wanted to go out with Chris. And it's not like they've even really talked - not much, anyway. Most of the past two hours was just Chris listening while Darren... 

Serenaded him? Okay, maybe that's better than conversation. Chris can at least walk away with a nice memory. It's not so bad, right?" 

"Hey, uh-" Darren calls out, just as Chris slings his bag more comfortably over his shoulder. "Can I get your number? I mean, I'd normally ask you for coffee but since I'm heading home for the next month and I'm kind of an impatient fuck-" 

"Of course." Chris interrupts him, and then immediately feels bad. Darren doesn't seem to mind, though. He unlocks his phone and hands it over to Chris with a new contact screen still up. "I would have said yes, by the way. To coffee. If you were still going to be in town." 

His heart is pounding and his pulse is racing. A boy wants to ask him out. A boy wants his number. _This_ boy wants his number. 

"Good." Their hands touch as Darren takes his phone back from Chris. "I'll text you, then. Sleep well, Chris."

"You too." Somehow, Chris manages to make it out of the room before he lets the smile take over his face so widely he feels compelled to cover it with his hands even though no one's around to see.


End file.
